


Territorial

by scruffandyarn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's a punk, F/M, Gadreel doesn't understand, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:26:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request was for a fluffy pregnancy fic where Gadreel is overly protective of the reader.  He and the Winchesters argue, the reader tells them off, cute, fluffy ending with gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Territorial

“Not again.”  You groaned as you heard yelling coming from somewhere in the bunker.  You pushed yourself off your bed and began to waddle towards the door.  

Being pregnant was tiring, and the further along you were, the more naps you needed to take.  Unfortunately the further along you were, the more “protective” Gadreel had become.  Cas had even made it a point to avoid being around you unless Gadreel was present–brotherly respect or some shit like that.  Too bad he was in heaven right now on some angelic business, or he could have stopped whatever argument was going on.

You made it into the hall, just as Sam was moving swiftly past your door.  Thankfully, you turned in time so he only brushed against your shoulder.

“Are you OK?”  He skidded to a stop and turned to check on you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  You thought about going and changing, but from the sounds coming from what you now knew was the library, either Dean or Gadreel were about to go off the deep-end.  “Seriously, Sam,” he still looked concerned.  “I’m OK.  Let’s go make sure those two don’t kill each other.”  You nodded towards the library entrance and he nodded.  He turned and continued on his way, you following behind at a slower pace.

“–not OK?  All I was doing was getting everybody’s laundry up.”  Sam stood in the doorway and you peeked around him to see Dean standing next to an overturned laundry basket, clothes strewn all across the library.  “That includes yours, douchebag.  I was trying to be helpful.  See if I ever try to help your sorry ass out again.”

“You never do laundry for anyone else.  You hardly even do your own.  What makes you think I would believe that your intentions for grabbing ______’s clothing were for anything other than nefarious purposes?”  Gadreel stepped closer until he was standing nose-to-nose with Dean.

“Back off, angel-boy.”  Dean shoved at Gadreel’s shoulders, but Gadreel didn’t move.  Dean was the one who ended up taking a step back.

“Guys, what the hell?”  You nudged Sam’s side and he stepped over so you could enter the room.  “I swear to fuck-all, I am about to murder whoever thought it was a good idea to hang my bra from the light.”  All three males turned to see that yes, your bra was indeed hanging from one of the light fixtures on the wall.

“______, do not stress yourself over this,” Gadreel stepped towards you, only to pause just a few inches away.  “Why do you smell like Sam?”  Damn it–you knew you should have changed.  Gadreel turned his attention and obvious irritation towards the younger Winchester.  “Why does ______ smell like you?”

“You know what?  I am sick. Of. This. Shit!”  You yelled.  “You!”  You pointed at Dean, “Get my fucking bra down from the wall and get my laundry clean.”  You turned to look at Sam.  “You!  You go back to wherever you were and finish whatever you were doing.”  Finally, you turned to Gadreel.  “And you!  Stop being so damned territorial.  I am not something you can just pee on and mark as yours.  I am sick to death of you keeping everyone away from me!”

“I did not urinate on you.”  Gadreel said plainly, looking very confused.  Sam barked out a surprised laugh that he tried to cover with a cough and Dean began to snicker.

“FUUUUUUUUUUCK!”  You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation.  You leveled a glare at each one of them before turning and waddle-stomping out of the room.

“I did not urinate on her.”  You could hear Gadreel from the hallway.

. ** **  
****

You’d gone back to your room and locked the door behind you.  Yes, Gadreel could easily get himself in, but he was usually good about respecting your privacy–especially when you locked him out.

After another nap, you woke up feeling much more rested and much more relaxed.  You weren’t feeling nearly as stressed as you had been, and you were even beginning to see the humor in the situation that had occurred in the library earlier.

A knock on the door startled you.  You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table to read that you’d been napping for at least three hours.  Crap.  Pushing yourself up from the bed, you waddled towards the door.

“Who is it?”

“Three wise men bearing gift–ow, Sam!”  Dean yelped–Sam must have smacked him or something for his Bible commentary.  Sighing, you unlocked the door and opened it.

“What do you want?”

“We just came to apologize for stressing you out earlier.”  Sam answered, and you noticed all three of them were holding something behind their backs.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like whatever it is you’re about to do?”  You eyed each of them skeptically.

“Sam and Dean have informed me that it is customary to provide a gift to the person you’ve upset.”  Gadreel began, pulling a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back.  “I am sorry.”  He thrust the flowers in your direction and you accepted them with a small smile.

“And I got you this.”  Sam handed you the small stuffed bear he’d been holding, “you know–it can double as a gift for the little one.”  You took the bear, your smile widening.

“And I got you this.”  Dean pulled a box from behind his back.  The fancy moniker scrawled over the top of the box told you it was from your favorite bakery–just the right size for one of their personal-cakes.  Since your hands were full, he pulled the lid off for you.

_‘Congrats!  You’re not a fire-hydrant!’_ had been written in icing over the top of the cake.

“What the hell is that, Dean?”  Sam growled, looking from the cake to you, to Gadreel, then back to you, and finally, his gaze rested on Dean.  

“What?  She’s not.”

“Get out.”  You started, glaring up at Dean.  “Get the hell out, both of you.”  You looked to both Winchesters.  “Sam, get your brother out of here before I kill his sorry ass.”  Sam nodded and grabbed Dean’s arm, dragging him out.  “Leave the cake.”  Dean obeyed and handed the cake to a very confused Gadreel.  Once they were both gone, Gadreel shut the door.

“I do not understand this cake.”  He tilted his head as he stared at the words.

You knew he’d meant the cake as a joke.  And really, it was pretty damn funny.  But pregnancy hormones were not to be denied, and you started crying.

“Hey,” Gadreel set the cake on the foot of the bed.  Then he took the flowers and the stuffed bear from you and set them down next to the cake.  He took your hands in his and pulled you close.  “Why the tears, ______?  I thought presents were supposed to make you happy.”

“I am happy.”  You sobbed, laying your head against his chest.

“If you say so.”  He released your hands and wrapped his arms around you and held you to him, mindful of your swollen belly.  “I am sorry if the cake upset you.  I can go get another one for you if you would like?”  You shook your head, wiping your tears on his shirt.

“It’s fine.”  You sighed as your tears subsided, and leaned back just enough to look him in the eye.  “Just, for both our sakes, would you please tone down the territorial thing?  I am yours just as you are mine.”  He nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.  “I know you said before how it’s an angel thing in protection mode because I’m pregnant, but I really would like to be able to be around other people without fearing for their safety if I happen to bump into them.”

“I will try.”  You nodded–it was something.

“But I would like your help in getting Dean back for the cake.”  You both looked over at the small box with the offending food item.  “After we eat it.”  You looked back at him, grinning when he just smiled and conjured up two forks.


End file.
